Final Post

So I've decided to put this blog to rest. Keeping it will just be too much of a hassle, and it'll probably make it easier for certain parties to find me.

Marl's asleep. In the hospital. I don't know if she'll ever wake up. Part of me wants to stay with her, and wait for her. But I can't do that.

Another part of me wants to go home, to my mother. One of the last people in my life. But I can't bring this hell to her. She's suffered enough.

"Runner" is the term for it, right? Someone who runs from a monster. And they'll keep running until the day they die.

I suppose that is my life now.

I'll run, and I'll run, and they won't catch me.

I won't let them.

The Last Laugh

Yesterday, there was a bomb threat. The authorities ended up having to evacuate the campus.

While I was evacuating, I saw Jester. He was standing in the doorway of one of the class buildings, just watching me, and when he knew I'd seen him, he turned around and walked inside.

I don't know why I did it. Maybe I was just desperate to end this all one way or another. Maybe the ink in my blood had finally driven me insane. Whatever the reason, I followed him.

He was waiting for me in the middle of the hall. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, and that grinning half-face on his mask stared at me with its perpetual amusement. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood there, watching me.

I heard footsteps behind me, and spun around, wondering if this was another of Jester's "jokes." Roxas was there. Or at least, his body was. His eyes were fixed firmly on Jester as he approached us, and it wasn't until he was right beside me that I noticed the gun in his hand.

Roxas raised the gun and took aim.

Jester stood silently and watched.

Something was wrong. This wasn't the "troll blogs and throw frogs at people" Jester I'd come to expect. This Jester was too calm, too reserved. No, that wasn't quite right. If I looked, really looked, I could see it. The shaking. Jester wasn't perfectly still. He was trembling.

It was as if a door opened in my mind. As soon as I recognized the shaking I saw other signs as well. The hoodie and the pants masked it well, but I saw the subtlest signs that this was not Jester's physique. It wasn't even a man's physique.

In that instant, panic gripped me, and without even realizing what I was doing, I shoved myself against Roxas. The gun fell from his hand and he slammed against the wall.

And then he pushed back.

He was so strong. Stronger than he had any right to be. Roxas fixed his gaze upon me. There was no malice. No frustration. There wasn't anything. Not even the slightest hint of emotion in his face of voice. "You are a failed experiment," he said. "The detriment you give us has begun to outweigh the benefits. There is no more us we have for you." And he launched himself at me, tackling me to the ground, wrapping his fingers around me, tightening his grip.

My hands grasped the air, grasped the ground, searching for anything I could use to save myself. At last they found something. Something cold, hard, metallic. I grabbed it and brought it to Roxas's head, and I fired.

He was my friend. And I blew his brains all over the wall.

I pushed Roxas's corpse off me. Something like blood was flowing from his head. It looked like human blood, but as it flowed across the ground and spread itself out, it became more and more transparent and watery. Ink.

I took a minute to catch my breath and recover from the shock. The sound of gunshot had deafened the world to me, and all I could hear was ringing.

Slowly, I became aware that someone was clapping. Laughing.

I turned to look back at Jester, and saw two of him. One still stood still, while the other was practically in hysterics. It wasn't a cruel laugh. It was the laugh of a child watching a funny movie. Completely innocent and free from any malice. I shuddered.

"I was certainly not expecting that," Jester managed to wheeze out between his laughter. "But that's good! Predictable punchlines are the worst." He reached over and pulled the mask off the woman next to him. Marl's face looked back me, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth struggling to form words, her body desperately trying to move on its own and escape the invisible strings that ensnared it.

"I know," Jester said. He'd finally calmed down. "You suspected, didn't you? That's why you stopped Campy over there. You've managed to outdo me in the comedic arena. I am shamed!" He punctuated that last sentence with an overly dramatic gesture, bringing the back of his hand up to his forehead.

I raised the gun again, and aimed it at Jester.

In in an instant, he was on top of me. He kicked in the face, hard, and wrestled the gun from my hand. All I could see was lights, and pain flooded through me. By the time I'd come back to reality, he was already back beside Marl.

"None of that now," he said. "Today's the first time you've ever fired a gun after all. I doubt your aim is very good. It's very likely you would have missed, especially holding it with one hand, lying down like that. Then who knows might have happened?"

And then Jester pressed the gun against Marl's stomach and fired.

I screamed, and Marl clutched her wound and fell to the ground. Jester threw his head back and laughed.

"And now she's fucking bleeding to death! Didn't see that coming, did you?" He started walking toward me. Slowly. Deliberately slowly, savoring each second. "And now, Johnny, this is the end. The bloodline ends with you. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but my Empress is getting impatient and who knows what other holes the Ichor will decide to stick it into?" He was about a yard away now. He stopped walking. "Go on," he said. "Beg."

And I did.

I begged. I pleaded. I tried to bargain. I told him I wouldn't have any kids. I'd do anything. I'd make sure my family never grew again. Just so long as he didn't kill me.

And then Jester took aim.

And he lifted the gun away from and said: "bang."

There was silence for a moment, and I just stared at him, dumbstruck. And then he started laughing again. "Oh, you should have seen the look on your face! You thought you were gonna die! Hilarious!" He kept laughing, and eventually he calmed himself down enough to continue. "Johnny, didn't I just explain to you? Comedy is an art form. The best comedy is unexpected, and the worst is predictable. If I killed you, it simply wouldn't have been entertaining."

I nodded. Hope suddenly filled me. Then Jester raised a finger in a gesture of silence.

"However, I have obligations more important than comedy, so I can't simply let you go free, now can I? The art must be sacrificed, if sacrificing it pleases my Empress. So here's the deal: You ever donate blood, I'll kill you and burn the blood bank to the ground. You ever register as an organ donor, I'll make sure your organs to useless to everybody. You ever get a girl pregnant, I'll castrate you and thank you for the opportunity to practice my abortion skills. I rarely get a chance like that, and I fear I'm not very good at it. The woman's not supposed to explode at the end of procedure, right?" He giggled a bit. "Make no mistake, Johnny. I'll be keeping an eye on you. The bloodline will end, for my Empress desires that it does, and she always gets what she wants. Understand?"

I found myself nodding again.

"Good boy. Now I suggest you dial 911. You got a corpse next to you. And I'm not sure how long your girlfriend has before her intestines bleed out completely."

With that said, Jester turned around, and left us.

Poison

Today was... interesting.

I went to see Zexion. I know, I know. It was stupid. It was a coward's way out. I'm an abomination. Yadda yadda yadda.

He had the bottle ready when I got there. The ink. If I drank it, I wouldn't be a hybrid anymore. I'd be pure. Zexion smiled as he lifted the bottle and undid the cap. He was standing in the middle of his dorm.

I was facing him. Facing the window behind him. And just as Zexion pulled the cap off, I saw Jester.

Zexion's dorm is on the second floor of his building. Jester shouldn't have been standing out there, but he was. And he was holding something. A shoebox.

He kicked at the window, shattering the glass. Zexion turned to face the noise just as Jester threw the shoebox. By pure instinct, I jumped backward, away from it. Zexion was too slow. It caught him square in the face and the...

I shit you not. The shoebox was full of frogs.

Small, brightly colored frogs.

It took a second for my brain to register what exactly they were: Poison Dart Frogs.

That fucking maniac threw a box of poison dart frogs at us.

I stepped back again and felt myself up against the door. Zexion slowly turned to look at me, an expression of complete shock on his face. The bottle fell from his grip and shattered on the floor. And then Zexion collapsed. I saw a frog hop out of his mouth. One of the golden ones.

I got out of there as fast as I could. Have you ever tried to explain to authorities that someone has released a bunch of potentially lethal frogs into a confined space? It's... an experience. Kind of comical now that I think about it. I guess that's why he calls himself "Jester."

Zexion

Turns out Zexion is insane.

I met him in the quad. Below is my best attempt to put recreate how our conversation went:

Axel: "Hey."

Zexion: "You came."

A: "What's this about?"

Z: "Just wanted to see how you were holding up. Being a hybrid and all."

A: "...So you've read my blog."

Z: "I have."

A: "How long have you known?"

Z: "[Roxas] told me a while ago. I've known all about it for weeks. Remember that night Shelby got real drunk, and me and [Roxas] had to take her home?"

I didn't like where this conversation was going. "Yeah?"

Z: "I kept watch. He impregnated her. Different genders in regards to the Camper and Human. Different strain of ink. EAT was hoping that it would yield different results."

A: "You're sick."

Z: "No. You're wrong. You, her, everyone... You all are the sick ones."

It was at this point I began to realize that he was crazy. But curiosity got the better of me: "What do you mean?"

Z: "You're afraid. You look at EAT and you see a monster. You're so comfortable in your own little lives that you don't realize the potential of the ink. It's different, so you fear it."

A: "Spare me the fake philosophy."

Z: "Fake? No. Why do people have wars? Why do they kill each other? Hurt each other? Because they don't understand each other. They are motivated by their own selfish needs. But if everyone had the same mind, if everyone had the same needs, without a sense of self, then there would be no pain. There would be only contentment."

A: "So you want to become a Camper, because you're too much of a coward to face pain."

Z: "Listen to yourself. So you don't want to jump of a cliff, because you're too much of a coward to face death? That logic is retarded. I've had enough pain in my life, thank you very much. EAT provides a safe way out. We are defined by our minds. The sum total of our knowledge and memories. When EAT takes those into itself, it is essentially taking us into itself. Mr. Frederick, from the diary, understood that. His followers understood that. Why can't you?"

I didn't have an answer for him, so he continued: "As it said in the diary, let your blood be blood no more. Consume the ink and become a full Camper. Jester and his boss won't care about you if you become a part f EAT. Replace your tainted blood with pure ink, and you'll be safe."

It made sense. As much as I hated it, as much as what he was saying repulsed me, it made fucking sense. "I'll think about it," I told him.

Zexion smiled. "Understandable. People always have a hard time when their introduced to new perspectives. [Roxas] gave me a bottle of ink. I'd be happy to share it with you."

I nodded. "Like I said, I'll think about it."

And then I walked away.

Meeting

Haven't seen Roxas since last night. I don't know if that thing in his body is preparing for something, or if I've been deemed a lost cause or what. And I don't really want to know.

All the people I've ever known in my life... I wonder how many of them were really human? How many of them were just observing me? Watching my every move, determining the effects of my blood? How many of my friends were really my friends?

Zexion called me. He wants to meet with me to discuss something. Says it's important.

I don't know if I should go. I don't know if he wants to help me, or destroy me, or use me or... whatever.

I don't know anything.

Shelby

Her stomach cut open. Her legs apart.

The blood. Jester's goal of killing us. The hybrids.

Childbirth.

He arranged her body to evoke the imagery of childbirth.

Oh God.

I'm sitting in my dorm. Roxas is right across from me. He's watching me.

There isn't even a shred of emotion on his face.

It's been a terrible week.

I broke up with Marl. She doesn't understand, but what am I supposed to tell her? That some psychopath might kill her just to fuck with me, because my great-grandmother happened to be a non-human thing?

I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see him, you know? But I haven't seen or heard from Jester at all. It's like he just disappeared. I don't like it. He's either planning or waiting for something.

And word travels fast. It seems like everyone on this fucking campus knows that I found the body of "that murdered girl." They all keep looking at me. I can't stand it. The pity.

Zexion seems to be over every day. He keeps stealing glances at me. Is it crazy to say that I think he knows?

But my thoughts just keep going back to Shelby. The way he killed her. I feel like there was a message there. Why else would he have... done it like that?

death

Alright. I think I'm beginning to believe you guys.

I just got back from the police station.

Earlier today I received a phone call from a number I didn't recognize. I answered it, and there was a voice on the other end of the line, and the voice was... it was like he was trying to hold back a fit of giggles. I could almost hear laughter on the edge of every word he spoke.

"Johnny" was all he said at first.

I asked who this was, and his reply chilled me to the bone and burned itself into my brain.

"I am the fool who dances in the court of the Wooden Empress. I am calling you from Shelby's dorm."

Shelby. That's Xion's real name.

Needless to say, I panicked. I asked the Jester what the hell he was doing there. Why he was calling me. Why he was doing this.

He was silent for a moment, and then he asked me one question, and his voice trembled as he struggled to hold in the laughter: "What is black and white and red all over?" And he hung up.

Roxas was watching me the whole time, and raised his eyebrow when I looked at him. I told him we needed to get to his girlfriend's dorm, and fast.

We have coed dorms, so we were housed in the same building, though she was a floor above us. We rushed up there as fast as we could, and when I found her dorm room, I froze.

The door was almost closed. The edge of the door rested against the edge of the frame, and all it would take was a slight push to open it up. A lot of people have these dry-erase boards hanging from their doors, and on Xion's someone had written two words: "This room."

I opened the door.

And then I threw up.

Xion-- Shelby -- was lying in the center of the room. She'd been stripped of her clothes and her stomach had been cut open from her groin to her chest. Her blood had been splattered all around the room, along with fucking paint. Black and white paint. He'd painted her skin as well, and she lay there, black and white and red with her legs spread apart, her knees up, her arms set under her back so it seemed like she was propping herself up.

We called the police. I mean, what else could we have done? I spent the next few hours talking to them. I showed them the blog and explained everything and showed them the number on my phone.

And then, just before they let me go, one of the officers got up real close to me. It was like he was trying to be nonchalant while doing it, but his muscles were too tense and his face to set with concentration for it to seem natural.

He put a note in my hand before walking away:

"She won't let us help you."

No, really, fuck you

So I'm guessing that most of you read Jester's comment last page. For those of you who didn't, a brief summary: he claims my family is made up of hybrids, that he killed my sister, and that he's going to kill me soon. What's more, some other people in the comments egged the fucked on.

So, I called the police. I informed them that an obviously mentally unstable individual had threatened to kill me.

Enjoy your felony charges, assholes.

Diary Entry 9

This... no. No fucking way. No! Who the hell wrote this? You think this is funny?

16-6-91

The subject has completed her Ascension, and has begun to progress into full acceptance of the God. I spent most of the day working with her, helping her to relearn the ways of imperfect humans. I admit to feeling a twinge of jealousy. She is becoming one with my God, while I remain sequestered in this body.

The next stage of the experiment shall proceed shortly. I believe I have selected well. The subject's figure, her hips in particular, seem well suited for child bearing. To all the world, it shall seem that we have eloped. We shall have to evade her old family, and to that end, I have made arrangements for us to flee to America, and selected a new name for us: "Marlowe."

My God has chosen me to be the father of a new species, a species of partially-Ascended beings, superior in every way to humans, born close to God. My blood shall mix with the Ichor of God, and we shall see if those spawned by our union are worthy, and then perhaps my God shall allow me to Ascend.

Is this some kind of fucking joke? I just... no. No, I refuse to accept this. This is insane. There's no way this can be real.

Can it?

Diary Entry 8

Roxas and Xion are fighting again, and this time... it doesn't look good. I'm not sure what the fight is about, but Xion seems really, REALLY upset. Like I can't remember ever seeing her this upset. I'm really worried about her.

You know what else worries me? This (that was an awful segue. I'm sorry).

The last two entries in the diary weren't written by Miranda. They're pages from someone else's journal, inserted into the diary for some reason. From the look of things, I think "Mr. Frederick" was the author. And... this is impossible, right? No way this shit is real. I admit, I'm having doubts, but who wouldn't under these circumstances? But it doesn't make sense. There is no fucking way this can be real.

11-6-91

 I continue to perform the tasks assigned to me by my God. With just the right combination, it seems that I am able to synthesize an elixir that causes the obsessions of the Ichor, but lacks a large enough dose to bring about full conversion. I am not sure why my God is so interested in partial Ascensions, but it is not my place to question. I only serve God's will.

Today, a vessel of my God brought me another possible candidate- a young woman named Miranda, the vessel's cousin. I thank my God for allowing me a choice in the subject of this experiment, and I am grateful that he has brought me such a suitable candidate. Yes, Miranda is perfect. We shall begin to make preparations for her Ascension immediately.

On some level, it saddens me that I have not been chosen to Ascend, that my blood shall remain that of a human's, but my God has given me an important task, one which cannot be achieved by a vessel. I shall complete this task, and then perhaps I shall be rewarded by becoming one with my God.

In the meantime, however, I must test my new elixir. Some members of the order have already volunteered. Hopefully, it shall succeed this time.

And I'm Back

Yeah. Spent most of Spring Break with my mom. She's been pretty lonely. I think having me around really helped her. I'm worried about her though.

Got back to college on Sunday, then on Monday I had a test. Who gives a test the day after Spring Break?

Anyway, there's like two more entries in that diary. I'll get around to posting them soon.

Diary Entry 7

OK, let's get 2 things out of the way first:

1. Don't expect to hear from me for the next week. It's Spring break and I'm going home to be with my mom. Both her husband and her daughter have killed themselves in the past five years, and she needs someone to support her.

2. This diary entry... I already know what some of you people are going to say, and NO. This is just a coincidence. Miranda had a weird dream that just happens to bare a similarity to that Eat thing. Know how I know that? BECAUSE "EAT" ISN'T REAL!

June 14, 1891

I had the most horrible dream last night.

I dreamed that I was in a big dark cave beneath the manor, and there were all these people in gray and blue robes holding candles, and they were gathered around a pool in the center of the chamber.

There was a smaller group of people, not wearing the robes, who stood together, just on the edge of the pool. My uncle and Bethany were both there. They had no facial expressions, simply appearing as blank slates.

One of the robed men was holding a young girl. She could not have been more than fourteen, and she looked both happy and terrified. It was the strangest expression. The man lowered his hood and I saw that he was Mr. Frederick! He looked over the crowd of people gathered, and he smiled when he saw me. I tried to keep myself from fidgeting under his gaze. I just wanted out of this cave. This cold wet cave where nothing grew. I wanted to be back in the garden with the flowers.

And then Mr. Frederick spoke, and his words seemed to embed themselves into my mind:

"My brothers and sisters! We are gathered here today to witness an Ascension! This young girl shall feel the embrace of the water god! She shall become part of our god and Ascend into perfection!"

With that, he pushed the girl forward toward the water, and she stood on the very edge of the pool. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if preparing herself.

"Rejoice!" Mr. Frederick then shouted, and he raised his hands up like a vicar delivering a sermon. "The god has chosen you! The god shall become your being and the god shall become your blood!"

And as one, all the robed figures chanted: "Let your blood be blood no more."

The girl nodded, and she raised her foot as if to step into the pool, but she hesitated. I saw doubt suddenly flash across her, and she began to slowly put her foot down.

And then something splashed in the water, and these things, these white strings rose from the depths of the pool. They writhed around in the air like a cat flicking its tail, and they wrapped themselves around the girl and pulled her from the ledge, into the water below.

For a moment, there was frantic splashing as she tried to escape the things, but they pulled her deeper and deeper into the water. Soon, the pool became calm and still, as if nothing had ever disturbed it.

And then I saw the girl's body float to the surface.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But something held me back. Some strange and dark and terrible fascination rose in me, and I stood my ground, and I watched.

The body floated toward the edge of the pool, and I wondered if perhaps those strings were directing it. Mr. Frederick bent down and reached out to the girl, and pulled her from the water. He held her in his arms and spoke softly: "Congratulations. On this night, you have Ascended."

There was silence for a moment, and then I heard the girl speak. "Congratulations. On this night you have Ascended."

Two other robed figures stepped forward and took the girl, carried her away from the pool into the darkness beyond. All the while, she continued speaking. "Congratulations. Ascended you. This night one. You have one congratulations."

The crowd began to dissipate, and Mr. Frederick approached me. He looked up and down my body, and I realized with a start that I was in my nightclothes. I tried to cover myself, but he had already turned and had begun walking away. "Enjoy yourself, my dear," he called back to me. "You shall soon join our god."

Diary Entry 6

I'm feeling much better today; sorry if I worried anyone. Episodes like that aren't exactly a new thing for me. They come and go occasionally. Runs in the family.

Anyway, here's the next entry in Miranda's diary:

June 13, 1891

What a wonderful day! It was bright and sunny and I so enjoyed myself! I spent the whole day in my uncle's garden, enjoying all the plants and flowers and it was so wonderful and beautiful!

He has such a collection of magnificent flora! And it is all arranged in such a beautiful manner, stunning in how wondrous it is! I was so taken in by how wonderful a garden my uncle has that I didn't even mind Mr. Frederick accompanying me. I barely even noticed him at all!

Oh, what I wouldn't give to stay here in this garden the rest of my life!

...And the next 50 or so pages are all drawings of flowers. Yeah, this diary is fucking weird. It's like she just suddenly became obsessed with these plants.

Hate it when this happens

Didn't go to any classes because my head hurt too much, and I was completely scatter-brained. Kept thinking about the most random shit and then my head would start throbbing and I kept getting a weird sense of deja vu. I looked ahead in Miranda's Diary and... well, it gets fucking weird in the next entry, and least what I could concentrate on, anyway. My mind kept blanking out or acting like I remembered walking around a garden.

Oh, God, my head's starting to hurt again. I'll post the next entry when I feel better.

Update

So... that was a crazy weekend.

Friday: school as usual. Nothing weird.

Saturday: UGH. There was little party ( a small one, like ten people) that I went to. Marl, Roxas, and Xion went to. And for some reason, Roxas also invited Zexion. So throughout the whole goddamn night, I have to listen to Zexion going on about those fucking horror stories. I mean really? Who names their monster "the Archangel" or "the Eye"? Those are the lamest names I've ever heard. But the one he went on and on about the most was some water vampire thing. Or at least that's how I understood. Replaces your blood with water or something and has a whole bunch of different names. Salmakis (or however you spell it), Ichor, Eat... That last one is really stupid if you ask me. Almost as stupid as the Eye.

I spent most of the night trying to ignore Zexion, who for some reason felt that everyone involved absolutely needed to know about these stupid things. I could see that Marl was pretty annoyed by it. She hates horror stories.

Eventually, though, Xion came to our rescue, by which I mean that she got drunk and puked all over Zexion. Roxas took her back to her dorm, and Zexion left with them, since Roxas offered to help him wash the barf off him.

The whole thing really spoiled the mood, to be honest.

Sunday: Spent the whole day studying for a big exam.

Monday: Big exam.

God damn it, I'm exhausted.

Diary Entry 5

Well shit. You know that guy I mentioned before, who's obsessed with all your horror stories and monsters? Well, him and Roxas have apparently been hanging around each other lately, and it seems that I'm gonna be seeing more of him. Joy of fucking joys.

You know, I'm tempted to use his real name just out of spite, but I won't. For this blog, he shall henceforth be known as "Zexion." Because Zexion always annoyed me.

Now, onto the next entry in Miranda's diary:

June 12, 1891

I am so upset I'm not sure I'll be able to even write properly!

Today had seemed to be such a good day. It was bright and sunny and I delighted in walking through the gardens of my uncle's estate. The day passed by swiftly and pleasurably with my cousin, but then it came and time for dinner, and who should join us but Mr. Frederick!

It seems that he is just as horrid a man as I had first thought. Throughout the whole meal he simply and boldly stared at me, and the comments and inquiries he made of me were so rude! Worst of all, my uncle and cousin didn't even seem to notice!

A good day ruined, thanks to that terrible man!

Huh.

I think I just walked in on Roxas looking at porn. He had his laptop out and when I went into the dorm, he slammed it shut as fast as he could.

Stop

Can someone please explain something to me? Why is it that everyone following this blog seems to be a fucking crazy person? Why are they all part of some giant roleplaying-looking thing? Why are they leaving ridiculous comments on this blog?

Stop it. Just stop it. I'm sorry if this blog somehow gave you the impression that I'm part of your little horror roleplaying thing, but I'm not. This is not some demented fantasy thing; this is real. Get over yourselves. And if you think that the shit on your blogs really did happen? Then get professional help, because you are a crazy person.

I do not need this. There's a kid in one of my classes who's obsessed with these fucking horror blogs and never shuts up about them. I hear enough about these monsters of yours already. I don't need them here.

Oh, and "Jester." Very funny. Stop fucking harassing me and get a life.

Diary Entry 4

Yeah, I said I'd do it "tonight" yesterday, but shut up.

Like I said, there was no real entry for June 9 aside from that poem, and apparently nothing of note happened on June 10, since that day got skipped completely.

June 11, 1891

Today I met Mr. Frederick.

It was the oddest thing. It happened about two in the afternoon, as I having tea with Bethany. We were in the middle of conversation about her poor fiance, when suddenly she simply stopped talking, and stood up. Her motion was so sudden that I nearly cried out in startlement.

I asked my cousin if something was wrong, and when she turned to look at me, it was like she wasn't even there anymore. The expression on her face was so... blank. It frightened me, and I thought that perhaps something horrible had happened to her.

And then the look passed and Bethany smiled at me. She told me that she felt it was time I met Mr. Frederick, as we had been in this same house for a few days now, and it was simply unthinkable that we had yet to meet. So shocked was I at this sudden declaration and strange behavior that I could only nod before Bethany seized my hand and led me through her house to Mr. Frederick's room. She knocked on his door, and timed her knocks in the strangest pattern. After a moment, a man's voice beckoned us into the room, and Bethany opened the door.


I immediately gathered that Mr. Frederick fancied himself to be a man of science. The walls of his room were covered with parchment, which in turn were covered in all sorts of diagrams and calculations. His only furniture were his bed, his dresser, his nightstand, and a table covered in beakers and glasses, most of which seemed to contain nothing but water.


Mr. Frederick himself was dressed in old and wrinkled clothing and his hair was completely disheveled and his face covered in stubble. I wondered at how long it had been since the man had groomed himself. He smiled at Bethany, and asked how he may serve her. It was strange, the way he said it. With a sort of reverence, the likes of which one would use to speak to a vicar.


Bethany told him that she wished to introduce me to him, and I forced myself to state my name and exchange pleasantries with that man. I suddenly found myself very afraid, and not merely because of Mr. Frederick's unorthodox appearance. There was something in his eyes as he looked at me that I can't quite find the words to describe. He was watching me very intently; far more intently that the situation warranted, and I found myself shivering and fidgeting under his gaze.


I do not know how long I stood in that awful man's room, nor do I wish to recall what we discussed, but I know that when we finally left, I was very thankful. I attempted to convey, as politely as I could, to Bethany that I had no wish to see Mr. Frederick again, but I don't believe she understood me.


Oh, I hope that I spend as little time as possible in his presence. That meeting with him ruined the whole day for me.

Valentines

So yesterday was Valentine's Day. I had a great time.

I took Marl out to dinner. Olive Garden. Being a college kid, that meal literally bankrupted me. We ate, we talked. It was nice.

Marl is amazing. She's smart, and she's funny, and she beautiful... Her favorite icecream flavor is mint chocolate chip, her favorite TV show is Arrested Development, she doesn't have a favorite color... I'm sorry, I'm gushing, aren't I?

The point is yesterday was fantastic, and I really like Marl. Not sure I'm comfortable with saying I love her just yet, since we've only actually known each other for about a month, but still.

But you probably don't care about my love life anyway. I'll post the next of Miranda's diary entries later today.

Bethany's Poem

It seems that Miranda didn't write a diary entry for June 9, but instead, she made a note of a poem that Bethany had read to her. She mentions that the dark nature of the poem makes her worried about Bethany's mental health, and she transcribed the words.

I'm not gonna lie. It's... it's a strange poem.

Heaven is on the Ocean's Floor,
So do not fear, step through the door.
And you will hurt and think no more
Of that so quiet time before.
Through the waves, away from the shore,
Let your blood be blood no more.

Diary Entry 3

June 8, 1891

Today was so dreary. There was nothing but grey clouds in the sky, and every hour or so it would start raining only to top again. I had looked forward to walking through my uncle's gardens, but alas I was confined within his house all day.

I spent most of my day with Bethany and we talked and talked for some time. I learned that she had been engaged not long ago, but that madness had struck the poor man and he'd been sent off to a sanitarium. I am so sorry for my cousin's misfortune! To have that happiness be snatched away!

Oh, and I do worry about Bethany. Sometimes she seems so distant, or she struggles to say something. I wonder if perhaps she still feels the grief of what befell her fiance?

I did not my uncle for most of the day, for was out meeting with a number of his neighbors, though I am not sure on what business. I also caught a glimpse of Mr. Frederick trekking through the mud outside but I have yet to be properly introduced to him. He spends so much time alone!

There seems to be so much unhappiness in this house! It is my greatest hope that I shall be able to help bring some light back into my cousin's life.

Another Doodle

Doodled this in my Spanish notebook. Yet another thing from my dreams:

Sorry if it's kind of hard to make out. I doodled it with a pen., so there's a bit of overlapping lines... yeah, it's kind of a clusterfuck.

I also think I'm gonna whip out my Wacom tablet and paint something on GIMP. This dream I had last night... man, this really cool image is just stuck in my head. I want to see if I can capture it.

But right now I have class, so that'll have to wait.

Diary Entry 2

June 7, 1981

What an eventful day! I rose early in the morning to begin my journey, and father made sure my carriage was waiting. Mother and father both bid me a safe journey, and I set off. I was so nervous! I have never before traveled alone, and I was unsure if I'd be safe or not.

But it was a lovely ride. I spent most of the day reading, for it was lovely day with much sunlight. Oh, but after some time it began to become so boring! I amused myself for a time by observing the countryside and the many flora and fauna, but even that eventually became dreary.

I arrived at my cousin's house just as the sun was starting to touch the horizon. Oh, how Bethany has grown! She is a handsome woman with dark hair and such pale skin. But it is strange. She seems so strong and lively, but sometimes she seems so frail.

My uncle received me warmly, and I was thankful for the dinner he provided. We spent much time talking. I learned that Bethany's mother was away visiting relatives, and a man named Mr. Frederick is staying at this house. My uncle tells me that Mr. Frederick is the son of an old colleague of his who has fallen on some difficult times. He is a reclusive man, though, so I wonder if I will ever have a chance to meet him?

It is a shame that I was unable to attend service today, but I am sure the Lord shall understand. Just to be safe, I think I will say some extra prayers before going to bed.

I Hate It When Trolls Are Right

So, it seems that that asshole Jester's troll comment on the last post was correct: Roxas and Xion did indeed have a lack of "hanky-panky." To put that in less stupid terms, they were having a disagreement about sex. Stop me if you've heard this one: the guy wants to bone but the girl doesn't feel ready. Yeah. When Roxas explained (in much cruder terms), I told him straight up that he sounded like the bad guy in some badly written PSA. Or the boyfriend from Scream. That too.

So, yeah, Jester? Congratulations. You guessed right. Now go away.

In other news, I'll be posting Miranda Winston's second diary entry sometime tomorrow.

The Grey

I spent most of my weekend either with Marl or doing homework. It was fun (the parts with Marl). We went to see the Grey, and afterwards had a very long discussion about it. Things I learned: Marl has an inner film critic demanding to be heard. I have never seen anyone go so in depth about a movie.

It was kind of cute when she suddenly stopped talking because she realized she was hogging the whole conversation. I had to assure her that it was fine. Really, it was interesting. She went into all this detail story structure, characterization, and symbolism. She even came up with a neat theory that the whole movie was just taking place in the main character's head, and made a pretty convincing argument for it. I don't think I agreed with her about that, but it was still pretty neat. And besides, it was nice to have something to occupy mind for a bit.

When I got back to my dorm, I saw Xion leaving it. She seemed kind of upset about something, but with Xion it's hard to tell; she's so quiet. Roxas didn't seem to want to talk about it, though I did hear him muttering something under his breath about her being a puritan or something. But it's none of my business.

Diary Entry 1

OK, so in between classes and homework and socializing and trying to get a decent night's sleep, I've started reading through the diary my sister sent me. Roxas thinks it's a waste of time, but Roxas can go fuck himself. For some reason, my sister felt that it was important that I read this old thing, and I intend to find out why. To make things easier, I'll copy the entries onto this blog. For reference, the author is someone named "Miranda Winston".


June 6, 1891

I am so excited to be visiting my cousin Bethany tomorrow. She lives far out from London in the countryside in [whited out] with her father. Her mother passed away four years ago, poor thing. I have not seen Bethany in so long, I wonder how she is?

I will be staying with my cousin for two weeks, and I intend to document each and every day. And so I am writing in this diary to declare my intention to do so, and to say that I must get some rest soon. I intend to record everything that happens in my journey tomorrow. Oh! I am so excited I don't know if I'll be able to sleep!


Yeah. Note that the location of Bethany's house was whited out. As in, it was covered up with that white stuff you use to cover up pen markings. It seems that someone has tampered with this journal very recently.

The Package

A package arrived in the mail, addressed to me.

It's from my sister.

It's a journal. A very old journal. The first entry is dated 1891.

Did she mail this to me just before she killed herself? Why? Why did she want me to have this?

Back

I was away from college for a few days so I could go to my sister's funeral. I wish I could have stayed with my mom a bit longer, she's so lonely... But I couldn't miss school. She insisted.

...Not really that much else to say. Or that much else I really feel like talking about anyway.

My Sister is Dead

I just got the call from my mom. My sister lived by herself in an apartment building. Her neighbors were worried because they hadn't seen her for a few days, and her landlord went inside her apartment and... well, she was hanging from the ceiling with a noose around her neck.

I really can't believe it. My sister was always so happy. So optimistic. I mean, suicides run in the family, yeah, but I never imagined...

I'm sorry. I just can't keep writing about this. I'm going to bed.

Ugh.

I cancelled my credit card. Luckily, there have been no new charges since I got mugged. Not sure what exactly the mugger was planning to do with my wallet.

As soon as Roxas found out I had been mugged, he immediately pulled out a six pack of beer. Roxas, you see, is a firm believer that there is no problem in this world that cannot be solved through alcohol. Well, he passed out about an hour later, but I barely felt a buzz. I'll be honest: I have never gotten drunk in my life, and not for lack of trying. Apparently, I have ridiculously high alcohol tolerance.

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!

I just got fucking mugged. Was walking back to my dorm and this fucker jumps out of the shadows and holds a knife to me. Of course no else is anywhere to be seen. Bastard made me hand over my wallet.

Course the bank is fucking closed, so I have to hope he doesn't max out my credit card before I get a chance to cancel it.

And that's not all, either. The fucker cut my hand with his knife when I gave the wallet to him. It's not a bad cut or anything-- nothing a band-aid won't handle-- but still. I was giving him what he wanted.

Couldn't even get a good look at the guy. He was wearing a mask with a clown face drawn on it, with a purple stripe running down one side.

Marley and Me

I spent some time with Marluxia today after class. Not much happened. We just walked around campus talking. We also ran into Roxas and his girlfriend (let's call her "Xion"), who also decided to stick around for a bit. I was hoping to spend some time alone with her for a bit, but... well, no use complaining about it now.

Marluxia

There is lovely young woman who sits next to me in one of my classes, and she's also pretty fun to talk to. I think I'll call her Marluxia-- not because I suspect her of being a very effeminate-looking man, but because she's pretty tomboyish, so, you know, androgyny. I'm bad at jokes. She sort of reminds me of Michelle Rodriguez, actually. Not that I think Michelle Rodriguez looks like a man. OK, I'll stop now.

I always did have a soft spot for Hispanic women.

Update and Doodles

Been busy with college this past week, so no updates. Here are some things I doodled in class though:

And yeah, both these images are from some dreams I had this past week. I doodled some random images from the dreams while I was bored in class. I did mention that I had weird dreams, didn't I?

College

I've been settling in for the new semester. Classes shouldn't be a problem-- I've always been pretty smart. My roommate, who I guess I'll call "Roxas" on this blog (yes, I'm nicknaming everyone after Kingdom Hearts characters. Deal with it), smuggled in a bottle of jack. We're going to celebrate the start of a new semester!

Dreams

Sometimes, I have trouble sleeping.

I have weird dreams. I've had them for as long as I can remember. I'm always in the water or at the beach or on the ocean floor, and there are always so many things around me. Strange things. Wonderful things and terrifying things. That's probably why I got so interested in art. Seeing all those odd things in my dreams... I draw them a lot. Maybe I'll post some of my drawings on this blog (of course I will. That's why I named it "Ink").

Incidentally, weird dreams run in the family. It's one of many things that runs in my family, though I'll probably explain the others some other time.

For now I guess I'll just leave it at dreams. I'm going back to college tomorrow, so don't expect much in the way of updates for the rest of the week, my one follower. Thanks for following, by the way.

The Beginning

Hey there everyone. I'm going by the internet handle of Axel, so I guess that's what you can call me.

A little about myself: I'm a sophomore in college, majoring in Art History. The new semester starts in about a week. I'm a boy.

...Yeah, nothing else really comes to mind.

Well, I guess we'll see how this blog goes then.